Greened Up and Leafed Out

Now that it’s almost May, all of the slow coaches among the trees on my route have finally leafed out. Jacarandas and elms in the shade, plus a few oaks, were the tardiest. But they don’t see it that way; their time is just right to make leaves now. It wasn’t their time earlier. One tree is probably dead, it stands stark without even a swelled bud on its branch tips. My cherry has vibrant red leaves and the berries hide in them and splat on the sidewalk, where the bluebirds and crows pick at the remains. The hummingbirds love the sycamore in front, but some mornings they click so loud and long we can tell something is wrong. It’s a hawk, sitting on the other sycamore or on the ancient TV antenna, looking hungrily around for a tasty bite. When the hawk launches into the air and cruises away on patrol, the hummingbirds click far less, settle into a low volume, sound content.

Feeling Groovy Again

I heard the Simon and Garfunkle song with the refrain, “Feeling Groovy,” yesterday and it made me think about seeing and feeling. The singer greets the objects in his life as if they are friends, has time to “watch your flowers growing.” Once, when the song was new, I was connected to nature more or less that closely. Then, I began to focus on my work and ignore the natural world around me. Only recently have I tuned in again, seen the moon’s phases, the trees antics with losing and regaining leaves, the clouds in the sky. I am happy to be seeing nature again, and hope to stay connected. With the song, I’m feeling groovy.

Trees Aren't Synchronized

I am ready now for all the trees to be green. Along Indian Hill Boulevard, first the grey-trunked sycamores leafed out, leaving the white-trunked ones bare. Then, a couple of weeks later, the white-trunked ones followed suit. The big elms farther down the boulevard came out in reddish buds and got all sexy, dripping flower parts all over the sidewalks and streets. Another street I drive along on the way to work has a few trees that still have no leaves at all. Several have gone through their redbuds or white drifts of flowers and leafed out. But still the two or three bare trees remain without leaves. I wonder each morning, will I see green or will I keep hoping in vain? Are they dead or just very sleepy?